#10 Lottie O'deal Kay Pharris ........ My Great Aunt O'deal

   

 

Lottie O'deal Kay Pharris

July 4, 1916 - January 18, 2011

There are a "lot" of "Lotties" in my family.  One of them died this week.  She was one of 13 children and the sister to my paternal grandmother.  I didn't know her as "Lottie," I didn't know her well at all really, I haven't seen or talked to her in over 20 years.  It's as much my fault as it is anyone elses.   I guess this is the "drift" that was intended by the writing prompt that I wrote about in  humgan #9?  We just had our own lives and  connected by relation, name, and really accident more than anything.    I didn't "grow up" around my family members really.........but my middle name was always a "reminder" to me that the name "Kay" was important enough to someone to give it to me.

She appears to be beautiful  inside and out by what is written in the memorial obituary.  It's sad to really feel that and yearn from that based on words after someone is gone.  Why didn't someone write this when I was much younger so that I would have sought out a relationship with this person with whom I share a "history" of some sort.   I remember as a child that she had beautiful children with names that I loved.  They all were  nice, thoughtful and  true southern belles around me.   I heard tales though............don't mess with a "Kay." 

Something happened in the family at one time.............something bad ............ somehow ........people got caught in the midst of a lot of finger pointing and there was a "great divide"  ......details about this situation are sketchy and I don't know enough to speak out loud about without somehow telling an untruth I am sure.....but .....the side that the adults that were in control of who I talked to........ was the "opposite side" and this impacted who I am or maybe who I am not in some ways ........... that's all that I know with certainty.

She lived to be "94"  I am the reverse of that "49" as of yesterday. A few people have said that I resemble her.  I know that my Grandmother does look like the photo on the left with the dark dark thick and curly hair. I didn't inherit that ........but I can see some similarity in the eyes, coloring and cheek bones......when I look really hard.  Its not that I am trying to say or imply in anyway that I mirror her, as I really wouldn't know if I did or not. I have only been around her a handful of times in my adult life.  What a shame.  I often wish that I had grown up in Natchitoches where I could know my family like family members should.   I missed out on being around a few people that have sparkled like jewels..............from afar.

My Aunt Odeal, married to my "Uncle Kermit."  I have never met another "Odeal" in my life and the only other Kermit that I knew in my life that wasn't in my family , was on Sesame Street.


Aunt Odeal wrote me a few times when I was a  girl, directly to me.  Only a few family members did that, she was one of them.  She would tell me about her husband,  and children who were beautiful and successful in most things that they did in life.  Thinking about it now, maybe she was trying to find out if I was okay.  I don't know..........I will never know.  

She and Uncle Kermit were married for over 70 years.   I don't know if I have ever met anyone that has celebrated that many anniversaries. Her Eulogy speaks for itself, its well written........and speaks about a "good long life."  They apparently had some great qualities that were not even mentioned because actions speak much more loudly than words and Karma does too. 

#4 O is for "Octavia" and the "Other side of the Tracks"

Octavia

18 Oct 1906 ~  Feb 1994

Until I was 6 years old I had 2 individuals that were like members of my family that some said were “colored folk”  from the “other side of the tracks.”   My favorite and the one that was around the longest was Octavia.

Octavia was my grandparents housekeeper who also cooked  dinner at noon and played “nanny” to the four McCleary daughters.  I am not sure how long she was around before I was born (if at all) but I do know that there was a short period of time when she worked for my nuclear family as well.  My Grandparents apparently separated for a short period of time and came  to work for us…….. it was then and only then that I got to travel to the “other side of the tracks.”

I don’t have any photographs of Octavia and really am unsure if any exist in the archives that have been divided up amongst the McCleary daughters. They may exist somewhere but as of this writing I have been told that they “wish they did” have some.  How could that happen?  How could someone be in the center of a family and help raise many children , grandchildren, wash the clothes, cook the meals, keep the secrets and serve the guests  and not be properly represented in the many photographs that depict the life of the family?   Maybe she was just the picture taker?

Octavia did not drive but I am sure some people that lived on the same side of the tracks as she did - did drive, because one man {whom I forget his name) delivered prescriptions from my grandfather's drug store , so I know he had to have a drivers license.  There were several times I rode with my father to take Octavia or our other housekeeper, "Irma" home. I always wanted to ride with him and was disappointed when he didn't let me.  My curiosity always peeked around subject areas that were covert or that the children were not meant to hear.   I was determined to find out what exactly was the meaning of living on the “other side of the tracks.”

Octavia addressed everyone as “miss” “mister” or “mrs.” followed by a first or last name depending on their age or their status.  I wasn’t sure which but I did know that I was “miss angela” just as my father was “mr. buddy” but my Grandmother was always referred to as “Mrs. McCleary.” Even when speaking to me in reference to my Grandmother she addressed her formally and answered her "ma'am."  We all called her just “Octavia” without any formal prefix added and no matter what age we were. 

thanks to "remember natchitoches" website for posting

Octavia was referred to as “negro,” “black,”  “the maid,” and the “housekeeper” by my relatives. Really she was brown.  She wasn’t black …….her skin was the color of my Aunt Mary’s horse which we all called brown or chestnut, not “black" like the delivery driver's skin was.   I don’t know anything about Octavia’s personal life.  I never heard anyone ask her about it either.  I don’t know if she was married and had kids or grandkids of her own,  or who in the world took care of them while she worked all day taking care of my relatives?

Octavia was the one that I hugged when I ran into the house, I never remember doing the same with my Grandmother or my Grandfather either.  She was also the one that kept me company at the kitchen bar.  I was left there by myself often because I had to finish every thing on my plate which I didn't do very quickly or willingly either. Octavia would be left with me , washing dishes directly across the bar.  She would tell me stories and each bit of the story would be “bribed” ….meaning I had to take a bite of food to get the next bit of information.  My food would often be given rides to my mouth by airplanes, trains and horses with her making the sound of the respective mode of transportation as I brought the utinsil to my mouth.  She would sometimes sneak spoon fuls of sugar and sprinkle them on my corn or whatever vegetable I resisted eating in order to keep “miss tish” or “mr. buddy” from spanking me.  Eating was always an issue with me, I somehow got “rickets,” as a small child while my father was in Viet Nam and my mother was left to care for me.  My father, called this a 3^rd world disease and was perplexed at how I could have ended up in the hospital with IV’s hooked to my feet when I lived in a family of “priveledge.”  He worked hard to make sure I ate properly so that I could not embarrass the family by contracting rickets again........ even if it meant  physically hitting me or actually pushing the food down my throat with their fingers ……Octavia didn’t like for the confrontation to occur and did her part to make sure it didn’t happen on her watch.

I remember one time my mother was driving me somewhere…..not sure where (she didn’t tell me either and I am sure that I asked).  I watched through the passenger side window trying to figure out our destination.  As we traveled down the road I spotted Octavia sitting in a rocking chair on her porch,  “YES” I thought, “We are going to visit Octavia at her house!”   We were not traveling very fast and as I hollared out “Octavia” I also opened the car door, not knowing that my mother had no intention of stopping…….the car door swung open and my small framed body was flung into the street .  Octavia came to my rescue from her porch and cleaned my wounds tenderly with a cloth, I just had a bit of road burn on my hands, knees and legs nothing serious.  I remember Octavia being so gentle and wiping my tears before I had to get back into the car.  I never got to go inside of Octavias house and asked why we didn’t stay when I got back in the car.  I was scolded for opening the door and told that we didn’t go inside of colored peoples houses,  “we were better than that”  “Better than what?”  “Quit asking so many questions.”

I wasn't informed or advised of Octavia's death or even her last name until recently...... and even though I wasn't around her for most of my life.....the tracks she laid in the early years will remain forever in my heart.

#3 My Rock............. My Foundation........... My Uncle Mike

My Uncle Mike........... what can I say?  he was my first "crush."  He was married to my beautiful , and I mean beautiful, Aunt Charlotte (now deceased).  And he was perfect............

****my uncle, Mike, middle row on right w/ mustache

Their wedding was the first wedding I ever went to.  I don't remember the church ceremony at all, but I saw pictures of the wedding so I know that it happened but ....maybe... I wasn't even there..... I should have been if I wasn't?  I do remember the reception at my Grandparents house and the fountain outside in the courtyard that everyone was dipping their cups into.  I think it was a champagne fountain but I cannot be sure.  My aunt and uncle had the "perfect" wedding, everything in order just like its "supposed" to be.


I was told that in order for them to be married the proper way, with all of the blessings, my Aunt had to live a year away from home, away from him, to make sure this is what they wanted and that it would last.  I am not sure why Charlotte had to do this when her older sisters and her younger one did not?   That is a secret, I guess?  They must have passed  the test because they did get married with all of the bells and whistles and were even given land to live and build on ,  right down the hill from my grandparents.

I remember my Uncle Mike and his good looks and charm.  I remember him making jokes, playing ball, lifting weights and swimming with us.  I remember the way his eyes creased in the corners when he smiled............ and the nickname he gave me that I hated,  "Petunia,"   he would say and chuckle......... I guess he meant like the "flower?" but all I could think of when he said it was "Petunia the Pig."
 

He was always so nice to everyone. My uncle was my idol,  he sang in a band at night  and worked during the day at my Grandfather's Drug Store, the P&C but always had time to "play" with all of the kids too.   Even when he was "working out" he found a way to include us, the kids,  he would use my cousin (kimmy) and I as weights and let us sit on his biceps as he lifted us up into the air giggling.   He would not only join us in our water gun fights, but he would initiate them and hand them out for us to fight back.    My Uncle Mike would even take up for us when we were punished "too harshly" by his standards. 

I always raved about my Uncle to my mother and others, but I was quickly pointed towards his faults when I did.  You see my mother always had a problem with other people, even family, getting compliments when she didn't.  Somehow, I guess she thought, if you pointed out that a person had "acne scars" that would change the persons mind about how "good looking" someone was?  I don't know what she thought , or didn't see..........how could anyone not see how "perfect" my Uncle Mike was?

       ***my uncle Mike, back row second from right,  My aunt Charlotte , blonde on right bottom

As I grew older my Uncle Mike and his world appealed to me even more.  My Aunt had joined the "band" which was now the "Harmon Drew Group" and they even made an album.  I never knew that she could sing, much less in such a voice that was so "deep."  My Uncle Mike, sang and played the guitar. They traveled all over and I understand even met Willie Nelson.........he autographed a shirt for them that was framed in their bedroom.   I heard them practicing on a visit to their home once but I never was brought to a real show.    I remember them playing and singing music that I liked,  Steve Miller, ......... The Joker........... and they played that........well.  The Band is still around, they are an area favorite, the "leader" is now a Judge. Even though my uncle left the group, I have looked them up from time to time.  The Harmon Drew Group was dubbed a "super group" and inducted into the Louisiana Hall of Fame in April of 2002.

My Uncle Mike, he  had a great wife, talent, a good job, a perfect smile, a beautiful home and everything a person could want.........except children.  I am not sure how old I was when my Uncle Mike and Aunt Charlotte divorced........ all I know is that I never got to say good-bye to him and  all of a sudden I wasn't supposed to talk about him, ever, in front of my family.   I was told that they couldn't have children and my Uncle Mike thought that "no children could be as perfect as his own" so he left to find a wife that could give him the "perfect" children.   That's all that I was told, all that I knew and all that I know today.   My Rock, My Foundation,  the man I looked up to all of my young years was gone.............. vanished...........
to have his perfect children somewhere else.........I think maybe he went to Colorado but I can't be sure......where-ever you are Uncle Mike?  ROCK ON! :)